Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Guyana and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Organ to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Jeru the Damaja,
R.M.O.,
Yaz,
David McCallum,
Black Pus,
Inner City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cluster,
Archie Shepp,
Juan Atkins,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ohio Players,
Pylon,
Aloha Tigers,
Quando Quango,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Young Rascals,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Masters at Work,
Skriet,
Kayak,
The Remains,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
The Human League,
Fatback Band,
Moss Icon,
K-Klass,
Crispian St. Peters,
Warren Ellis,
Suicide,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jeff Lynne,
Sam Rivers,
Scion,
The Seeds,
Ossler,
Infiniti,
Robert Hood,
Suburban Knight,
The Searchers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tim Buckley,
Alice Coltrane,
Blake Baxter,
Trumans Water,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Almond,
Silicon Teens,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Public Enemy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tears for Fears,
Mr. Review,
Grandmaster Flash,
Angry Samoans,
Shoche,
Mars,
The Raincoats,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.